Step into a world of scandal, intrigue, and enthralling passion as New York Times bestselling author Mary Balogh sweeps us into the lives of an extraordinary. [READ ONLINE] At Last Comes Love (Huxtable Quintet, Book 3) by Mary Balogh. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can download and. At Last Comes Love book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Step into a world of scandal, intrigue, and enthralling passion.
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By Mary Balogh. Genre: Historical. Release Date: At Last Comes Love by Mary Balogh is Historical Only agony could accompany. Quick download ebook At last comes love for smartphone - Free Books Download free "At last comes love" by Mary Balogh EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT, site. Editorial Reviews. Review. “Sparkling with sharp wit, lively repartee, and delicious sensuality, At Last Comes Love (Huxtable Quintent Book 3) by [ Balogh, Mary]. Audible Sample. Audible Sample. Playing Playing Loading Loading.
Or to … Her hair would get damp. Not if she wore her oldest—and still her favorite— riding hat. Besides, damp hair dried quickly. Her complexion would turn rosy. She would look vibrantly healthy among all the wilting lilies who would also be making their comeout.
It never hurt to stand out from the crowd. And the worst of the shine would have faded from her nose and cheeks before she needed to leave the house again. No, he would not. Not if she behaved as if it had all been planned yesterday, and—what?
Had his grace not informed Marsh about it and instructed him to have a mount ready for her? How very odd! No harm would be done. What could she be expected to do alone for three whole hours, after all —at least three? Not that the possibility had struck her until this very moment. But now that it had, it would consume her mind and her nerves for every idle moment until she was safely out of the royal presence. What better way to distract her mind and her nerves than to go for a morning ride?
She would take a groom with her. She was not so lost to all conduct that she would go tearing in pursuit of Tresham without proper chaperonage. Tresham would not mind if she joined him on his ride.
Well, he probably would, but he was not her father.
He was only her guardian, and he had not exerted himself greatly so far to be a vigilant one—except that he had surrounded her with governesses and servants from the moment he became duke at the age of seventeen. And except that he had given vent to a minor volcanic eruption when he had discovered at that inn that the Reverend Coombes had abandoned her and that none of the four grooms or footmen from Acton had been in sight when she rushed downstairs to greet him and that Betty had still been half asleep up in her room.
Now he had imposed Rosalie on her. Not that Rosalie was a great imposition. He would not scold her today, would he? Not in public, anyway. Or in private. Not today. This was her very special day, perhaps the most special of her whole life, and he would not wish to upset her.
And if she stood here any longer holding this rather garrulous mental debate with herself, she thought, straightening up and closing the window, it would be too late to go, and now that she had conceived the idea of taking a morning ride in order to relax her nerves, she could not possibly do without it.
Well, perhaps she could. But she would not. She strode off in the direction of her dressing room. There was his maiden speech to deliver in the Upper House. It had been written and rewritten and then written again. It had been practiced and repracticed and practiced again. And just last night— and every night for the last two weeks—he had been assailed by terror at the conviction that it was utter rubbish and he would be laughed out of the House and expelled from the ranks of the nobility.
He was not usually given to vivid, ridiculous imaginings. And then tonight there was the Tresham ball and the set he was to dance with Lady Angeline Dudley. It was only a dance, he had tried to convince himself. But it was the opening set of her come-out ball, and every eye in the ballroom—virtually every eye in the ton, in other words—would be fixed upon them. His only hope, a faint one, was that most of those eyes would be directed exclusively at her.
She was, after all, the most eligible young lady on the market this year and most people would be getting their first look at her. However, he would think of the ball and that particular dance later. He went out for an early morning ride in the park despite the inclemency of the weather—it was cloudy and chilly, and a light but persistent drizzle kept everything and everyone uncomfortably damp. If one waited for clement weather in England, though, one might find oneself riding for brief spells once or twice a fortnight if one were fortunate.
Besides, he had made arrangements to meet two of his oldest and closest friends and he would not let them down, supposing that they braved the drizzle and the chill, that was.
They both did. In one he had begun his speech in the House of Lords with a flourish until he had faltered at the realization that he had forgotten to put on any clothes before leaving home. In another, he had got up to speak, opened his mouth, noted the respectful attention with which all his fellow peers were regarding him, and realized that he had forgotten to bring either his notes or his memory with him.
I need a good gallop to blow away the fumes of too much imbibing last night. It is a good thing my brother can turn twentyone only once in his life. He grinned as they rode onto the Row.
But he has a maiden speech to deliver.
I wish we might hear it. Edward breathed in lungfuls of fresh air and ignored the discomfort of water droplets clinging to his face. He began to relax a little, and they rode in companionable silence for several minutes while he mentally rehearsed his speech yet again. It was George who broke the silence. At first, though only for the merest moment, he thought she was surely a courtesan.
She was cantering toward a group of young men, all sunny smiles, while a groom shadowed her a little distance behind. What other sort of lady would be out alone at this hour and in weather like this, after all? The answer to his unspoken question came to him during that merest moment. The same sort of lady as one who would stand alone in a public taproom, posed provocatively in a clinging bright pink muslin dress as she gazed through a window, oblivious to the effect she was having upon two males standing behind her.
Not just the same sort of lady, of course. The very same one, in fact. Edward watched, appalled, as she rode into the midst of the group of young men, none of whom he knew, talking volubly as she went.
He did not hear the first few words, but then her voice became more audible. I was about to turn about and go back home when I spotted you. I was never so glad of anything in my life. But you must absolutely promise not to say a word, Ferdie. He would doubtless cut up nasty though it would be grossly unfair. How was I to know he was not coming here?
This is where everyone comes to ride. I will ride with you and your friends instead. You will not mind, will you? As Edward and his friends rode on by, Edward with his face averted lest she see and recognize him, there was a chorus of enthusiastic assent from the young men. It would seem, then, that her indiscreet behavior at the Rose and Crown was nothing unusual.
How well did she know any of those men? She certainly had not arrived with any of them. And someone, it seemed, would be annoyed if he knew she was here alone. As well he might be, whoever he was, poor devil. Well, this time, Edward decided firmly, he was not going to get involved. If she did not know how to behave, and clearly she did not, it was not his concern —even if she did look slender and lithe and very much as though she might have been born in a saddle.
And even if when she smiled she made one forget that it was not a bright, sunny morning. He felt rather hot and ruffled, he realized. What if she had seen him? She might have recognized him and hailed him. It would have been a ghastly breach of etiquette.
Perhaps it would not be such a monstrosity if it were dry. But he was about to be given a second chance to observe it. There was the sudden thunder of hooves from behind them, and before they could move to one side or take any other defensive action, five horses and riders went galloping past at full tilt, spraying water and mud indiscriminately in all directions, except over themselves. And then a sixth a decent interval behind the others—the groom. Second in line was the only lady who had braved the weather this morning, whooping with joyful abandon and laughing with wild glee, just as if she had never in her life heard of feminine decorum—as perhaps she had not.
Her hat, glorious in its profusion of multicolored feathers culled from birds long deceased, bounced on her head in time with her movements and somehow stayed on. It was perhaps the hat, Edward thought belatedly, that had caused him to mistake her at first for a courtesan. He glanced down at his mud-spattered buff riding breeches and black boots—both new just last week and immaculately clean this morning.
He flicked one gloved finger over his cheek to dislodge something wet that clung there. But neither of his friends had seen her before. Edward really did not want to risk coming face-toface with her, whoever she was. His stomach answered with a return of the slight queasiness.
He turned his mount to leave Rotten Row. A whooping laugh blew past behind him together with a flying horse and rider. She was galloping back up the Row, Edward presumed without looking around to confirm his guess. It sounded as if she was leading the pack this time. He felt more spatters of mud pelting against the back of his coat. And then he sensed something and was unwise enough to turn his head. She had stopped her horse. She had done it so abruptly, it seemed, that it was rearing up. But she brought it under control with an ease that could only have been born of long practice.
Her companions were thundering off into the distance, apart from the groom, who was altogether more vigilant. Her eyes were fixed upon Edward, wide with recognition. Her lips were parting in a smile. Oh, Lord! At any moment now she was going to hail him, and there was enough of a distance between them that at least a dozen other riders, including his friends, were bound to hear.
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Edward inclined his head curtly to her, touched his whip to the brim of his hat, and rode away. She did not call after him. Devil take it, she was in London. He was bound to run into her again, he supposed. Perhaps even this evening. Perhaps she would be at that infernal Tresham ball. He frowned. This was not a day destined to bring him any pleasure.
It had already started badly. There had been no embarrassing encounters with the train of her gown, and she had met and chatted with other young ladies who were also making their come-out this year. She had high hopes of making friends of some of them. She had never had a close friend, which seemed like an abject admission to make, even to herself, though she had never felt dreadfully deprived.
Her two brothers had been her playmates—and her adored heroes—when she was a child. When she was a girl, she had known all her neighbors at Acton, including those of her own age, and had been on amiable terms with all of them. But of course they all stood slightly in awe of her because she was the daughter and later the sister of the Duke of Tresham, with the result that she had never had a bosom bow, someone with whom to chat and giggle and in whom to confide all the deepest, darkest secrets of her young heart.
Now, among her peers, perhaps she would find such young friends. And beaux. All the men in the vicinity of Acton, from the age of fifteen to eighty, were far too much in awe of her. Oh, she was glad, glad, glad that she was here in London at last, that she had made her curtsy to the queen, and that she was dressing for her come-out ball. She could hardly contain her exuberance. She was already dressed, in fact, and Betty had just put the finishing touches to her very elaborate coiffure.
She would not have thought it possible to arrange so many curls and ringlets on her head in such a pleasing arrangement. And she was confident that they would remain where they were. She shook her head gingerly and experimentally, but they did not cascade down about her shoulders. There was, of course, a whole arsenal of pins hidden away under them. Angeline got to her feet and looked at herself critically in the pier glass.
She looked, she supposed, as well as she possibly could look considering two massive and unavoidable facts: first that she was compelled to wear white, and second that she was a great dark beanpole of a girl.
She had had the misfortune to take after her father rather than her mother in looks, as had both her brothers. But that fact was fine for them.
They were men. Nothing was going to dampen her spirits tonight, though. She took the ivory fan Betty was holding out to her, opened it, and fluttered it before her face. She was not being obsequious. She was just as likely to say the opposite if that was what she thought. Betty often did not approve of what her mistress chose to wear. Angeline gazed into her own reflected eyes. Who was he?
Her heart had performed a triple somersault when she had spotted him this morning as she went thundering past him up Rotten Row. There he was. At last. Looking neat and lithe in the saddle, and just a little mud-spattered.
She had been about to call out to him. But, just as he had done at that inn, he had inclined his head to her, showing that at least he recognized her, and had ridden away without a word. His behavior had been perfectly correct, of course. They still had not been formally presented. He had saved her from the horrible faux pas of calling out to a stranger in a very public place. Tresham would have had her head if he had ever heard about it.
Even Ferdinand would have been annoyed, though by that time Ferdie was almost at the other end of the Row in a race with his friends. None of them were close enough to answer the question that had burned in her mind. Angeline fanned her face a little faster before snapping the fan shut. Would she see him again? Would he be here tonight? She turned from the pier glass as a brisk knock sounded at the door. Betty answered it. Tresham and Ferdinand were standing out there, both tall and gorgeous in their black evening clothes with crisp white linen.
Ferdinand was grinning. You look as fine as fivepence. Neither did she doubt that he was wildly attractive to every female who set eyes upon him, and that he knew it. Tresham looked his habitual bored, handsome self.
But Angeline bristled instead. Does that imply that I am usually wild and uncivilized? What do you know about me, Tresham? Before I came to town, I saw you on precisely two occasions after you were sixteen and I was eleven.
You abandoned me when you left home so suddenly. All you knew about me afterward, presumably, was what you learned in the reports sent you by the various governesses you imposed upon me. And they all disapproved of me because I was not a perfect mouse of a young lady.
What did they expect? What did you expect? I am a Dudley, after all. But I am not wild for all that. Or uncivilized. Are you ready to go down?
Or do you plan to make an entrance to your own ball after everyone else has arrived? Oh, she adored both brothers, Angeline thought as she took an arm of each and descended the staircase for the all-important duty of greeting the ball guests in the receiving line.
She adored them even though she was constantly exasperated by them. She had heard much about them even though she had not seen a great deal of them during the past seven years —though Ferdinand had come home almost every school or university holiday, even if only for a few days. She had heard about the dangerous, reckless races, the fistfights, the mistresses, the duels, though that last applied only to Tresham.
Fortunately, both duels were long over before Angeline heard about them. She was very disapproving of the cause, very proud that her brother had shot into the air rather than directly at a wronged husband, and very convinced that every nerve in her body had been shattered by the news and would never function properly again. Cousin Rosalie was waiting in the hall below and smiled at Angeline with approval and encouragement. You … command it. And she had noticed that Rosalie called her distinguished rather than pretty.
She wondered suddenly how her mother would have described her tonight. Would she have called her fine, as Tresham and Ferdinand had done? Or distinguished, as Rosalie had done?
Or lovely, as Betty had done? Or pretty? Or, as she had done once when Angeline was thirteen, at the fact that her eyebrows did not arch elegantly above her eyes? She had been in the middle of one of her increasingly rare stays at Acton Park at the time, even though Papa was already dead and therefore no longer to be avoided. Angeline had spent the whole of the subsequent week peering into mirrors, trying to arch her eyebrows the way Mama did. But when she had tried the new expression on her mother, Mama had told her she looked like a startled hare and warned her that she would have furrows in her brow before she was thirty if she was not careful.
Perhaps her mother would have approved of her in white, Angeline thought. It was what she had almost always worn herself. Or perhaps not. Perhaps she would have seen more clearly than ever that Angeline in no way resembled herself and would have been unable to disguise her disappointment and her conviction that Angeline would never be the daughter she must have dreamed of. Although Angeline was no longer gangly, she was even taller than she had been at the age of thirteen.
And her eyebrows would still not arch. But she was not going to grow maudlin over the hopelessness of her looks on this of all nights. Its long length looked like an indoor garden, a luscious indoor garden, laden down as it was with white flowers—lilies, roses, daisies, chrysanthemums, among others—and green leaves and ferns. They were in banks about the perimeter of the room and circling the pillars. They hung in exuberant profusion from baskets on the walls. They were reflected in mirrors.
The room was filled with their combined scents. The three large chandeliers had been on the floor for the past several days while every piece of silver and crystal had been polished and shined and dozens of new candles had been fitted in place.
The candles had been lit now and the chandeliers hoisted up close to the gilded ceiling, which was painted with scenes from Greek mythology. The wall sconces had been filled with candles, which were also alight. The wood floor gleamed.
The French windows along one long wall had been opened back so that guests could stroll on the lamp-lit terrace beyond. The orchestra members had already arranged their instruments on the dais at one end of the room.
At the other end, the doors to the adjoining salon were open so that guests could help themselves to drinks and other refreshments from tables covered with crisp white cloths. It was all … overwhelming. Angeline had only ever attended informal dances in the drawing rooms of the more prosperous of her neighbors at home and a couple of assemblies at the village inn.
She stepped alone into the ballroom and stood there, her hands clasped to her bosom, trying with all her might to resist the urge to weep. This was it. This was what she had longed for throughout the lonely years of her girlhood. Suddenly she felt lonelier than she had ever felt. And so excited she could scarcely breathe. Tresham stepped up beside her, drew her arm through his again, set his free hand lightly over hers, and said not a word.
She had never loved him more. And he had not noticed anyone nodding off to sleep during its delivery. Several members had even shaken his hand afterward. One elderly duke, who carried a hearing trumpet with him but had not used it all afternoon as far as Edward had noticed, had even commented that the speech had been a fine piece of oratory. At which a younger peer had slapped him on the shoulder, winked at Edward, and observed that His Grace had said the same thing of every maiden speech that had been delivered during the past fifty years.
Edward had joined in a general burst of laughter. It had been, actually, the best moment. He had felt accepted. Anyway, it was a huge relief to have that ordeal behind him. At least Eunice would be there. He would reserve the second set with her and hope she was content to sit it out with him. Then at last he would be comfortable and could relax in the knowledge that this long-dreaded day was effectively at an end. He arrived at Dudley House with his mother and Lorraine.
He was happy to see them both in higher spirits than they had been for a long time. They were both out of mourning. His mother had become reacquainted with some of her numerous friends in the ton and seemed determined to put memories of her elder son to rest and concentrate her attentions upon her second son. Lorraine had put on some weight and looked the better for it. The color was back in her cheeks and the gloss in her hair. Now she looked her age again.
She was still only twenty-three, one year younger than Edward himself. She was a vivid beauty once more. Edward wished her well. He had always been fond of her and she of him. She had sometimes, though not often, confided her misery to him while Maurice lived.
A few times he had tried to talk to his brother but had merely ended up being called a pompous ass for his pains. Edward made his way up the staircase inside Dudley House, a lady on each arm. This was one of the first grand balls of the Season.
He doubted there was a person invited who was not here already or else in the long line of carriages outside the doors. The staircase was crowded as guests awaited their turn to pass along the receiving line. It still felt strange, Edward thought as they reached the doorway to the ballroom and the majordomo announced their names, to be treated with such deference. Edward Ailsbury had been able to slip into—and out of—any social event he chose without anyone particularly noticing.
The Earl of Heyward was someone, even if he was also just an ordinary man or a pompous ass, depending upon who was describing him. I wonder if he has arrived yet. He wondered if there was any significance in her mentioning Fenner, whom he knew as a pleasant enough man, a few years his senior.
The Duke of Tresham never hosts balls. He wished suddenly that he had thought of persuading his mother to sit at the pianoforte in the drawing room at home while he practiced steps with Lorraine or one of his sisters. But being rusty on the steps of all the most common dances was not his problem. Having two left feet was, and no amount of practice could rectify that. The receiving line was short. Lady Palmer was at the near side of it with Tresham next to her.
The young lady beyond him was presumably Lady Angeline Dudley, but Edward could not see her clearly, partly because Tresham stood in the way, and partly because almost every lady ahead of him had nodding plumes in her hair. He bowed to Lady Palmer and agreed that yes, indeed, they were fortunate to have such a fine evening for the ball considering the rain that had fallen fitfully all morning. His mother smiled and nodded and made a few polite comments of her own, and Lorraine smiled warmly and congratulated Lady Palmer on what already showed the unmistakable promise of being a grand success of an evening.
Edward inclined his head more stiffly to Tresham, who returned the gesture and spoke briefly and courteously to the two ladies. And perhaps they were right. If it had not been Tresham, it would have been someone else.
And Tresham had not directly caused the upset. Tresham turned to his right, and Edward and the two ladies turned to their left and an avenue of sight opened up. Oh, good Lord! Even the scene the excerpt came from was far less funny in context. The story is of Margaret Huxtable, eldest of the Huxtables, who was left in reduced circumstanc Genre: The story is of Margaret Huxtable, eldest of the Huxtables, who was left in reduced circumstances to raise her siblings after both her parents died.
Now her old flame Crispin Dew is back in town, and a widower with a young daughter. To avoid Crispin, Margaret runs headlong into the disreputable Duncan Pennethorn, Earl of Sheringford — who has just been given an ultimatum by his grandfather — marry a respectable woman in the next 14 days or be cut off entirely.
Duncan proposes marriage to Margaret immediately on meeting her. However, it mostly left me cold. I like Duncan and Margaret better then any of the other Huxtable heroes or heroines … in fact Duncan may be one of the most admirable romance heroes ever, however I never get a sense that they take joy in each other.
From the scenes shown, I believe that Duncan and Margaret have come to understand each other and be comfortable together… but I wanted more. So far, they are, even to the point of including an outdoors sex scene to celebrate the discovery of love. Their wedding night was awkward and sweet, but every other sex scene seemed irrelevant to both the story and to their relationship. Oct 12, Cindy rated it liked it Shelves: Cukup 3 aja deh, sebenernya mau kasih 3,5 karena dari semua keluarga Huxtable sebenrnya paling suka sama Margaret.
Tapi yah gitu sih, penokohanya lembek, males jadinya Margaret, ditinggal sama tunangannya perang dan melajang sampai jadi perawan tua demi adik adiknya, di book ini giliran Margaret yang mulai mencari kebahagiaanya sendiri. Dua adik permepuannya sudah menikah di dua book sebelumnya dan adik lelakinya sudah cukup dewasa, jadi dia udah gak punya tanggung jawab lagi buat jaga adiknya Cukup 3 aja deh, sebenernya mau kasih 3,5 karena dari semua keluarga Huxtable sebenrnya paling suka sama Margaret.
Dua adik permepuannya sudah menikah di dua book sebelumnya dan adik lelakinya sudah cukup dewasa, jadi dia udah gak punya tanggung jawab lagi buat jaga adiknya. Pacarnya yang dulu yang selalu dia tunggu itu ternyata udah menikah dan punya satu anak sama wanita spanyol, dan balik lagi ke inggris saat sudah jadi duda.
Dia datang lagi ke kehidupan Meg dan ngajak reconciled lagi seperti dulu. Si Margaret yang masih merasa sakit hati karena dihianati janjinya itu mulai cari akal dan bilang kalo dia secara diam diam sudah bertunangan, padahal gak. Dilain pihak Duncan, Earl of Sheringford, sudah putus asa sama permintaan kakeknya yang menyuruhnya menikah dengan lady proper atau kalo kagak dia bakal dicoret dari daftr pewaris.
Duncan ini punya masa lalu yang penuh skandal, dulu dia di hari pernikahannya malah kabur sama istri dari kakak calon istrinya. Nah, karena ingin dianggap jadi seorang pahlawan sepupu Duncan menikahi calon istri Duncan yang dia tinggalkan di altar pernikahan. Si kakek mangancam kalo Duncan gak segera menikah dia bakal ngasih kastil dan isinya ke sepupunya itu, bisa dibayangkan sih betapa malunya Duncan.
Lalu alasan apa yang bikin Duncan sampai berbuat nekat dan hidup dengan istri dari kakak calon istrinya dulu? Rahasia apa yang disembunyikan Duncan? Keduanya bertemu dalam sebuah pesta dansa secara tak sengaja, bagaikan berkah dari Tuhan, satunya butuh lelaki buat pura" jadi tunangan dia dan melepaskan dari kejaran ex nya, yang satu butuh istri. Pas mantab, jadi deh timbul kesepakatan untuk berpura" jadi tuanangan keduanya. Tapi si Crispin atau siapa itu nama ex abal abal itu gak percaya sama Meg dan Dunca, mulai deh penyelidikan, la emang pura" mana ada yang tahu keluarga Huxtable yang lain.
Ngamuk sih pada gak setuju karena masa lalu Duncan yang buruk dan terkenal run away groom lol.. Margaret mulanya juga bimbang dengan kesungguhan si Duncan, tapi tetep aja diterjang, pilihanya kan ada 2 nikah sama orang asing dengan rumor yang belum tentu kebenarannya, atau balik sama ex nya yang sudah menghianati janjinya dulu.
Lalu siapa lelaki cilik yang dibawah Duncan bersamanya? Mampu gak mereka mengatasi semua masalah yang malang melintang dalam kehidupan pernikahan mereka? Lalu ada lagi nih yang bikin sebel, si Mrs. Marry ini suka banget deh ngulang ngulang penokohan dan diskripsi yang sudah dijelaskan sebelumnya, jadi waste kertas banget, bisa kali dibuang separuh buku dan isinya lebih padet.
Idenya bagus, sayang pengembanganya bikin bosen yang baca: Oct 20, Fangirl Musings rated it it was amazing Recommends it for: Historical romance readers than enjoy a solid and believeable hero and heroine. Summed up in a nut shell, this was a great book! I very much admired the hero and heroine, the story had wonderful pacing pared with consistent momentum until the very end. The climax was written beautifully, and the storyline was simple enough to be entertaining and complex enough to be legitimate.
The plot of the novel contains many surprises and the characters, most especially the hero Duncan, was very interestingly structured. Nothing is as it may appear in regards to this male lead. One of Summed up in a nut shell, this was a great book! One of the most best aspects to this book, in my humble opinion, is the fact that the reader genuinely connects with, and care for, both Duncan and Margaret. It's sometimes difficult to put into exact words why a book is necessarily good, or bad.
I think what is most impressive in regards to this book is the fact that it is actually surprising how well this plot works. One would think, based on the description of the book, that the storyline would be too simplistic to be so enthralling. However, because Balogh has written such wonderful characters to begin with, the plot doesn't need to be overtly flashy.
We simply want it all to work out well for our characters, and that was the forethought in my mind as I read this book. And yet, my admiration for this novel goes past the simple reasons, too. I am rather impressed with the fact that Ms. Balogh takes somewhat of a different turn with her characters. Without giving away too many spoilers, I am impressed with the honesty between the hero and heroine in regards to each other after their marriage.
At Last Comes Love
Although, don't get me wrong, without question there are secrets between the two, however I'm referring more along the lines from the romantic standpoint between the two. Such was not the case with At Last Comes Love, and this was something that singularly stood out in my mind while finishing the story. Finally, the last note I have as far as this book is concerned are one point that I absolutely love seeing in romance novels of any sub genre.
Both Duncan and Margaret are very strong characters, yet not in an obnoxious sort of light. They stand firm for what they believe is right, despite what their family or society might think otherwise.
This is one facet to the book that I truly loved above all else! And, while nothing can be perfect with any novel, this book comes very, very close. Dec 31, Lita Bouquard rated it liked it Shelves: Meg the eldest Huxtable sister who mothered Stephen and Katherine giving up her own chance at marriage years ago, learns her one time love has returned. Meg promised her father at the age of 17 that she would raise her siblings. Crispen her love left for the army promising to return.
He never did, never wrote and she found out that he married. Poor Meg was so hurt and now she hears he has returned with a motherless child and wishes to see her. She is furious and wants him to know she wasn't wait Meg the eldest Huxtable sister who mothered Stephen and Katherine giving up her own chance at marriage years ago, learns her one time love has returned.
She is furious and wants him to know she wasn't waiting for him all this time. When they meet again she tells him of a non existing fiance to avoid his pity and arrogance that she will once again love him as if the past was forgotten.
She decides quickly to marry a friend who has offered for her several times but learns he is now engaged. Meg bumps into a man who offers her a dance and a marriage. Duncan Earl of Sheringford has just returned to society-desperately seeking a bride.
His grandfather has given him 14 days to fulfill a promise made years ago to marry and provide an heir. He needs to find a bride but the fact that he abandoned his fiance at the alter and ran away with her brother's wife is a bit of a deterrant. Scandal has followed Duncan but he needs money to support his illegitimate son that no one knows about. Now that his lady has died they could never marry because she never got divorced he needs a mother for his son and a means to provide.
His grandfather has suddenly decided to cut him off from funds. Sherry is brutally honest with Meg - they get gossiped about and she considers his offer of marriage with the agreement he will court her for the remaining 13 days. Meg although still gorgeous has reached the age of 30, and has started to realize her opportunities for happiness might only be through nieces and nephews.
She shocks everyone by going out and about with Duncan and is warned by everyone to stay away. She admires his honesty and is excited by him. Crispen proves to be a pain and not the man she dreamed he was by spreading word of her betrothal she was just lying to impress him and forcing her to give Duncan a chance. Of course Duncan's shame was really a heroic gesture and his vow of silence is broken when he tells Meg the truth. They both want to fall in love and work at it with sexual compatibility a bonus.
Duncan still has one secret he kept from Meg and that almost destroys their marriage but of course instead it grows stronger. Meg who has given everything for her family deserves happiness and she and Duncan get it despite the rumors, gossip and pressure of society in this book 3 of the Huxtable series.
Jun 09, Yankeecountess rated it really liked it Shelves: The third novel in Balogh's "Huxtable Quintet", now following the romance of Margaret, the eldest sibling within the Huxtable family. She stayed behind to look after her siblings, instead of marrying him right then and there and The third novel in Balogh's "Huxtable Quintet", now following the romance of Margaret, the eldest sibling within the Huxtable family. She stayed behind to look after her siblings, instead of marrying him right then and there and following him to Spain.
Turns out that Crispin married a Spanish lady and has had a child. Now a widower, he returns to England, specifically seeking Margaret, who is trying to avoid further heartbreak and hoping to be proposed to by another gentleman. Unfortunately, that man is engaged already to another lady, so in a moment of panic, Margaret bolts from the ball…only to run into Duncan Pennthorne, the Earl of Sherringford.
Duncan desperately needs a wife; his grandfather will cut him off and take away his estate in a little over two weeks if he does not marry. However this proves to be somewhat difficult as Duncan has a notorious past; five years ago he left his bride at the altar and ran away with a married woman! What proper lady would receive his proposal?
Perhaps one who is just as desperate? This was the novel I was eagerly awaiting in the Huxtable Quintet. In some ways, this novel was slow…while in others, it moved at a good pace. Still, my favorite of the "Huxtables", at least so far! Solid 4 stars Sep 11, MrsER rated it did not like it Shelves: The story, although unlikely, was intriguing at the beginning Characters were sketched very lightly; when the main male part was finally described, it was in a way that did not seem to me that he would be from the beginning of the story.
The dialogues sounded too modern. When a mention of riding into the sunset is made, which would be as unlikely at the time as using a tablet, I pricked up my ears But the story was not badly written, so, I kept reading It was so excessive that it actually really distracted me and I could not stop noticing them.
They started screaming at me at each page I turned; they were everywhere! I might sound too picky, but when I encountered an entire phrase in italic, I simply chucked the book.
To prove I am not exaggerating, here it is: Had she really just come perilously close to admitting to the Earl of Sheringford that they had been lovers before Crispin went off to join his regiment? No one in real life, nor in fiction, speaks with so many italics. Well, unless you, like, are a college kid, OMG!
After a while it got really tiresome. And the heroine, who was supposed to be level-headed and full of common sense, kept behaving impulsively. I concluded the rest of the story would be the same and gave up.
For instance, I was also reading The Mirror Crack'd —I generally read up to four books at the same time, like everybody else, right? It was Mary Balogh's inevitable demise: There are no discussion topics on this book yet.
Readers Also Enjoyed. About Mary Balogh. Mary Balogh. After graduating from university, moved to Saskatchewan, Canada, to teach high school English, on a two-year teaching contract in When she's not writing, she enjoys reading, music and knitting. She also enjoys watching tennis and curling. Mary Balogh started writing in the evenings as a hobby. Her first book, a Regency love story, was published in as A Masked Deception under her married name.
In , she retired from teaching after 20 years to pursue her dream to write full-time. She has written more than seventy novels and almost thirty novellas since then, including the New York Times bestselling 'Slightly' sextet and 'Simply' quartet. She has won seven Waldenbooks Awards and two B. Other books in the series. Huxtable Quintet 5 books. Books by Mary Balogh. Quotes from At Last Comes Love. It seemed selfish.
It was not, though. It was the opposite. Keeping oneself from being loved was to refuse the ultimate gift. He had thought himself done with romantic love. He had thought himself an incurable cynic. He was not, though. He was only someone whose heart and mind, and very soul, had been battered and bruised. It was still - and always - safe to give since there was a certain deal of control to be exerted over giving.
Taking, or allowing oneself to receive, was an altogether more risky business. For receiving meant opening up the heart again. Perhaps to rejection. Or disillusionment.
At Last Comes Love
What I envision is something quite like this, only on a smaller scale. The advantage of this would be that seasoned employees would not have to learn an entirely new system. To design and implement the portal with its exact specification would require a small team of professionals within the organization.
The individuals would not necessarily need to be dedicated to the project, though the time commitment of each team member on the project should be expressed at the outset and reviewed periodically. For now, I anticipate two staff members will be needed: a Web designer, to design the portal interface, and a programmer, to review any programming needs that might arise and design solutions. Management should be involved at the outset to ensure download-in.
The time commitment of these additional staff members would be minimal; they would simply practice clicking and navigating the site and answer a few questions that would inform any changes in the design. The institution of higher education has seen some changes in recent years, and more changes are forecast for the near future.
As well, the legitimacy of online learning is gradually becoming accepted by the institution and by the society at large Sloan-C, At the same time, the costs of higher education have risen dramatically in recent years. The current economic situation in the United States is forecast to seriously limit the availability of student loan funds.
This will have an impact on the ability of middle-class families, who rely on these loans, to afford the high costs of higher education. It is likely that traditional institutions of higher education, such as Penn State, will face more competitive pressure than ever before from community colleges and for-profit degree providers.
Finally, in spite of or even because of this economic climate, universities are voluntarily implementing bold new environmental initiatives in efforts to reduce waste and climate change-inducing emissions.
In fact, it is possible that state-funded educational institutions like Penn State will face mandates in the foreseeable future for compliance with new environmental standards Obama, Higher education institutions will have to respond to these modern pressures with innovation and flexibility.
Employees will be at the heart of higher education innovation; thus, workforce education is going to be at the center of any innovation initiative. It may be useful to look at models in the private sector that have been successful at driving such innovation. Google Gruca, is often cited as an excellent example of a company providing incentives to employee innovation. Employees work in a highly flexible, team-based environment with interpersonal interactions strongly encouraged.
The system I propose will address or be in keeping with many of these current and future changes to the institution of higher education. By enabling workers to rapidly and effectively communicate via a unified portal, time and money will be saved. The system will also meet the institutional goal of improved compliance to environmental standards and climate change initiatives. Employees working at home or working from a distance will not feel so isolated from their colleagues due to the social and professional networking components of the system, and improved communications will reduce time inefficiencies that might otherwise be a barrier to offsite workers.
Additionally, by improving the online offering of employee training, offsite workers will be nearly as informed on the latest organizational knowledge as their onsite counterparts. The institutional pressures mentioned above, including pressures to innovate, reduce costs, and reduce environmental impact, will not be solved by solutions like the one proposed here alone.
It must be part of a broader approach to these pressures. Penn State has recently implemented a large number of innovative environmental initiatives including environmentally-friendly computer downloading policies, innovative recycling initiatives, and a program to download locally-produced foods for the dining halls on campus PSU, b.
Many of these initiatives have cost-saving advantages as well.She took the ivory fan Betty was holding out to her, opened it, and fluttered it before her face. She told him she hated him. It was chilly and windy and ever so slightly drizzly, all weather conditions that would make almost any delicately nurtured female shudder with distaste and cling tenaciously to the indoors until the sun deigned to make an appearance.
All I wanted were some oils in the most economical way. She looked remarkably unalarmed. It was amazingly well written and humorous of a book. He would leave and take his grudge against her with him.